


Woven Together Like a Tapestry

by Reiya_Wakayama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe – Medieval, Arguments, Biting, Domesticity/Future!fic, F/M, Knotting, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, Slight Breath Play, Stiles rules with an iron fist, Sword Fighting, Voyeurism, Werewolf Are Known, corsets, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Scott are werewolves and knights of the court of Queen Lydia Martin and her consort Jackson Whittemore. Stiles is human and an adviser on the more magical side of things. The three of them just happen to be mates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woven Together Like a Tapestry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ionsquare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionsquare/gifts).



> This is a gift fic for quidditchkiss/ionsquare for the Teen Wolf Fall Harvest. Loved this prompt because it actually let me get a couple of kink out of my head that I’ve wanted to write about but was too lazy to start. Hope you enjoy. Betaed by myself and any mistakes are my own.

Metal rings on metal as the swords strike each other. A small crowd has gathered by now to watch the two men fight. It is not often that anyone is allowed to see Sir Derek Hale and Sir Scot McCall go head to head against each other. As the court’s best knights and strongest werewolves, they usually chose to settle things in more private settings instead of this way.

They push off from each other with a growl and stalk around the perimeter, watching the other move. Stiles wouldn’t have even known about what was going on if he hadn’t needed something from the library. His path went by the training grounds and had a perfect view of the fight.

Sighing heavily at the two men’s antics, he starts to make his way down the path to where the crowd has gathered. Pushing his way into the crowd and up to the fence that cuts them off, Stiles gets an up close look at his two knights and mates.

Scott’s eyes are glowing bright gold while Derek’s glow blue through their helmets and though he can’t see it, he knows their faces have shifted as well. Muttering under his breath about territorial, pig headed idiots; he quickly takes a deep breath and pulls on his magic. A few muttered words and he directs the small cascades of water over the two hot heads.

They stop in shock and the crowd around them has grown silent as they stare at the resident magic user in their midst. Derek and Scott turn to see Stiles tapping impatiently on the fence, glaring at them. “I will speak with you two later,” Stiles says softly, knowing only they can hear him. Without another glance, Stiles turns away from the wet knights. The crowd parts and he walks away.

~*~

It’s not until later that day that the three meet back up. Stiles has been avoiding them. Not that hard to do when he’s in back to back council meetings with Lydia and Jackson, their majesties demanding all his time.

Stiles is glad when they free him from his duties for the day and he can retire to his rooms. He’s lying in his bed, reading a small scroll when he hears Scott and Derek come in. He counts their steps and knows exactly when the come into contact with the mountain ash line around the bed.

There’s stunned silence and then both werewolves growl. “Stiles, what the hell is this?” Derek demands, eyes shining blue.

“Punishment obviously,” Stiles says with a wave of his hand, not even looking up. “You two made a fool of yourselves and me this afternoon and I’m punishing you for it.”

“So we can’t sleep in our own bed?” Scott asks, frowning.

“You can, if you tell me what you were fighting about this time and apologize to each other,” Stiles says, finally setting his scroll down and looking up at the two. Out of their armor, they look a lot more appealing; especially with the still clinging clothing from both sweat and the water Stiles had dropped on them.

“It wasn’t important,” Derek mutters, still glaring at his mate.

“If it is not important then I guess it is not important for you to sleep in this bed. Okay then, see you later. I’m going to stay in bed for now,” Stiles says and shifts up to pull his shirt off. He hears one of them suck in a sharp breath as his waist is bared to them.

He can feel their eyes on the silk and bone corset wrapped around his waist, cinched tight enough to give his waist a subtle curve to it. Stiles glances at them subtly and sees their eyes riveted to him. “You like? I’ve been wearing it all day. Lydia even helped me into it. It was supposed to be a surprise for you two but I guess I’ll just have to take it off now. Oh well,” Stiles says and reaches back to undo the lacing.

Two growls rumble from across the room and his hands stop and he looks up at the partially shifted werewolves. “Oh, you don’t want me to take it off. Well, I might as well get my time out of it. Since you won’t tell me why you were fighting, I guess you’ll just have to watch,” Stiles says with a smirk.

Finishing undressing, Stiles arranges himself on the bed giving his two mates the full view of himself. Reaching for the small jar of oil they keep on the bed, Stiles slicks up his fingers. A few quick tugs has his half hard cock going to full mast. He can hear a soft whine coming from the other side of the barrier.

Reaching further down, Stiles probes gently, sinking down to the last knuckle with ease. He’s at three fingers when the two weres finally break. “Stop,” Derek grinds out through clenched teeth.

Stiles does and arches a brow at the two. “He said I was emotionally stunted,” Derek grits out, glaring at Scott.

“Yeah, well, you called me a dull-witted fool,” Scott shoots back, glaring just as hard.

“Boys,” Stiles calls out and they stop and turn to look at him. “Apologize and make up,” Stiles tells them, fingers still inside him.

“Sorry,” Scott mutters, Derek following in turn. Stiles coughs loudly and they sigh but step closer and kiss gently, putting words into action.

“Sorry,” Derek says softly, meaning it this time. Scott nods back and kisses him once more before stepping back.

“Better,” Stiles says and snaps his fingers, breaking the ash line. His mates react instantly, launching themselves at the bed and Stiles, hands grabbing, pulling, touching every part of him. His fingers are pulled out and then he is being sandwiched between two hot bodies.

Two strong hands grab his covered waist, holding him as Derek slowly pushes in, Stiles gasps, grappling with Scott’s shoulders. Scott pulls him close and kisses him, distracting him from the stretch and pinch of pain. He lavishes a trail down the side of his neck, sucking a little and biting at the warm skin there.

The corset has already made him short of breath from the constriction and the kiss pushes it that much further, leaving him panting heavily as Scott pulls back. But he still can’t catch his breath, each hard thrust punching the air from his lungs every time he tries to get more.

Stiles knows Derek is close when he feels his knot starting to catch on each pull out, can feel his own muscles coiling as he spirals higher and higher towards orgasm. Scott grabs his cock; stroking him deftly and leaving his gasping. Derek growls loudly and shoves in once more before stilling, knot expanding.

That little bit more of pressure is all Stiles needs to go over and then he’s a melted puddle between them, unwilling to move, though he couldn’t go far, still tied to Derek. Scott scoots down and starts licking the mess up, making Stiles twitch with sensitivity.

Time passes oddly as they wait out Derek’s knot but finally it does go down and then Stiles is being manhandled to turn over onto his other side. Scott scoots up behind him and gently pushes in, aware of Stiles’ sensitivity.

Derek tries to distract Stiles, kissing him deeply, playing with his nipples and cock, biting and sucking at the side of his neck, bringing him back to full mast and aching again in a matter of minutes. Scott whines behind him, picking up pace and rutting into Stiles’ pliant body.

Stiles can only gasp as Scott knots him as well; filling him up even more and dragging another orgasm from him that leaves him limp again. By now, he’s a mess and strung out on the pleasure and just wants to not move.

He’s floating in his own head by the time Scott pulls out gently. Hands push him onto his stomach, fingers plucking at the lacing of the corset and slowly loosening it until he can breathe properly again. Soft touches pet him, rubbing away the red indents left from the boning of the corset.

Derek gets up and comes back shortly with a wet clothe to clean him with. Stiles’ breathe hitches a little at the cool cloth but he lets his mate clean him up. He’s nearly asleep by the time they finish cleaning him up and then he’s being tugged once again onto his side and two bodies slot in on either side of him. They tug the blanket up over them, cocooning themselves in warmth.

Stiles sighs happily at being surrounded by his mates. “Love you,” he murmurs where his face is mashed up against Derek’s collarbone. The two werewolves rumble with happiness, pushing closer and running their hands and faces over his skin. By morning, he’ll reek of their scents, and all the other wolves will know exactly who his mates are. He doesn’t mind though because they’ll smell just as strongly of him and he doesn’t share.

“You know, I won’t be able to sit right tomorrow,” Stiles says, barely conscious.

“Go to sleep, Stiles,” Scott says, rubbing his face against Stiles’ back.

“All right,” Stiles whispers and then lets sleep take him under.

~*~

He wakes up plastered between the two werewolves and sweating from the heat. They’re dead to the world and it takes a few well timed shoves to get them to roll over and let him breath. There are a few grumbles but neither wolf stirs.

Smiling down at them, Stiles heads over to his wardrobe, wincing at the slight pain of a strained muscle in his lower back. Quickly changing, Stiles gives his mates one last look before leaving to start the day.

There are few out this early. He normally wouldn’t be up this early, but sometimes, it’s nice to be alone. He nods to the few chamber maids and servants up and about. He doesn’t head to the kitchen just yet, knowing he’ll just be chased out by the cook for disturbing her staff so early in their morning routine.

Instead, he heads for the gardens. He’s walking one of the paths, watching the sky lighten when he stumbles on Lydia sitting on a bench by herself. “Your majesty,” Stiles murmurs, bowing his head just so towards her.

“Oh hush Stiles, it’s too early for this,” Lydia says. “Sit,” she motions towards the empty spot next to her. “So, I take it from that spectacular bruise on your neck, your surprise was well received?” Lydia asks with a smirk.

“What?” Stiles asks, flushing pink and his hand jumping to his neck even though he can’t feel it and has no mirror to see it.

Lydia laughs softly at him. “No magic to cover that one up, is there?” she jokes and Stiles blushes deeper. “Come by my chambers later and I’ll have my maid help cover it up for you,” Lydia says, ruffling his hair. “Though with the way you smell, everyone will know what you’ve been up to anyways.” Stiles coughs uncomfortably.

Lydia stands. “Come by in an hour, Jackson should be up and out of the room by then,” Lydia says. Smirking one last time, she saunters off.

Stiles is still sitting on the bench when two warm bodies sit down on either side of him. “So which one of you did this?” Stiles asks, pointing to his neck. They both have the grace to flush and look away. “Both of you, really?” he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry,” Scott whispers, pressing close to Stiles. “It’s just, you didn’t smell like us as much as we like and it was instinctual.”

Derek copies Scott and presses closer, kissing him just under the jaw. Stiles sighs, “I’m not mad. But you will be making this up to me. I expect to be pampered today.”

“All right,” Derek says easily. Stiles squawks as he’s suddenly air born, Derek’s arms holding him up with ease.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks.

“Pampering you. We don’t want you to walk today and tire yourself out,” Derek says with a knowing smirk.

“This isn’t what I meant and you know that,” Stiles grouches, arms crossed as Derek continues to carry him. “I so do not like you right now,” he grumbles.

“You love us,” Scott says cheerily, pressing a quick kiss to Stiles’ lips, Derek following with his own kiss.

Stiles sighs, “I guess I do, though I don’t know why.” They laugh together as they head down the hall.

**End.**


End file.
